You're Not So Scary After All
by Lillia-Lillia
Summary: A major storm rocks Tulsa and Johnny seeks refuge at Darry's house. I suppose a rain storm might be a little cliché, but if you love fluffy stories, this one is for you! One-shot. Johnny/Darry cuddly fluff.


**A major storm rocks Tulsa and Johnny seeks refuge at Darry's house. I suppose a rain storm might be a little cliché, but if you love fluffy stories, this one is for you! One-shot. Darry/Johnny cuddly fluff. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Outsiders**_

**You're Not So Scary After All**

_Good ol' Oklahoma_, Darry thought as he looked up at the very angry gray sky above him. He was squatting on a rooftop tacking in the last few shingles, wondering when the storm would hit. This was the fun thing about living in Oklahoma. You get all your rain at once in one massive springtime deluge.

Darry worked fast, not because the foreman was watching, but because he suspected that one of his gang members was not adequately prepared for the coming storm. Not his little brothers though. No, Darry made sure they sought refuge at Sandy's house. Why? Because her house had a basement; the safest place in the event of a tornado. Darry smirked as he crawled down the ladder off the roof. Soda would be in seventh heaven, what with Sandy feigning terror of the storm in order to cuddle up to him. Not the sweetest deal for Ponyboy, he admitted, but he'd live.

It was Johnny for whom Darry feared. That poor kid. His parents wouldn't think twice about throwing him out in the middle of a storm. Darry imagined him hunkering down in the lot while the rain poured down in sheets, holding his jean jacket over his head, peering nervously out into the world through the tops of his suspicious dark eyes.

After punching out from work, Darry coaxed the engine of his old Ford truck to turn over. The rain was just beginning as he pulled onto the expressway. It was humid and sour-smelling out with an ominous, electrical feel in the air. Within ten minutes, he was back in his neighborhood and the sky had exploded into the most massive rain storm in a decade. As Darry drove slowly through the residential streets with his windshield wipers going top speed, it didn't take long to find a soggy Johnny Cade. He was huddled beneath a shrub right in front of his parents' house. Darry pulled over and cranked down the side window.

"Get in!" He yelled to Johnny over the storm. A bolt of lightning crisscrossed through the sky and lit it up like Christmas in April.

For once, Johnny, who never liked to impose his presence on the Curtis brothers, didn't need a twice-telling. He scurried from his hiding place and all but dove into the vehicle. As he cranked the window shut, the accompanying thunderclap ripped through the atmosphere with a boom that rattled their bones. Johnny looked up at Darry, breathing hard, surprised dark eyes meeting excited blue-green ones.

"I love me a good storm," Darry told him as he pulled a u-turn and threw the old girl into third. "Exciting, isn't it?"

"That's one word for it," Johnny replied. "Thanks for picking me up."

"No worries. So, they uh…kicked you out, huh?"

Johnny ran a hand through his drenched hair which spiked it up like a black rooster comb. "Yeah," he sighed, "my folks said they didn't want me taking up space in their house all night."

"Thought that might happen. I'm sorry. I came as soon as I could."

"I 'preciate it."

"I know you do kid," Darry replied as kindly as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Johnny flinch in response to the next clap of thunder. His eyes were dancing with fright. The boy was visibly shaking. Darry was unsure what to say next. "Um, you're not afraid of a little rain, are ya?" He asking gruffly, fixing his eyes straight ahead on the road.

"Huh? No. I'm just cold," which would have been a plausible response, except the next thunderclap tipped his hand. Johnny flinched and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Yep, alright, bud," Darry agreed, not wanting to embarrass the kid. He reached his house and pulled sharply into the driveway, killing the engine. The rain noisily hammered the roof of the poor old Ford. "You ready to make a run for it?"

Johnny nodded and the two sprinted for the door. It didn't matter because by the time they got inside, both young men looked like drowned rats.

"Whew, holy Jesus," Darry muttered, slamming the door shut behind them, his hair plastered to his face. "I do love a good storm, but this one's a little much. Now," he looked down at his younger companion. "I just washed every one of these floors yesterday. And I don't want us dripping nasty flood water and such all over them. So strip, okay?"

"Huh?" Johnny looked up at the eldest Curtis brother. He was broad shouldered with a no-bullshit attitude, and Johnny didn't want to defy him. He often found Darry to be rather intimidating. But 'strip' was a very forward request and hard to comply with.

"I mean, take off those wet clothes, please." Darry had already kicked off his shoes and socks and had peeled away his work shirt. As he undid his fly and struggled with his waterlogged jeans, he added, "I'll bring you a change of clothes."

"Oh, okay." Johnny tugged at his jacket, briefly thinking about what a pain wet denim was before his eyes fixed on Darry. The older man was retreating towards the bedrooms and Johnny noticed his back was nothing but solid muscle. _It must be from all that manual labor_, he decided. Darry's sides tapered down to a small waist set above a powerful-looking backside and legs. Johnny felt his face heat up because he couldn't stop staring at how Darry's soaked underwear clung wonderfully to his buttocks. _Why the hell am I thinking this?_ He wondered, alarmed. _Quick, think of something else!_

Darry emerged from his bedroom moments later just as another crack of thunder shook the house right down to its foundation. He politely ignored Johnny's rather obvious flinch. Darry was looking more comfy in a dry white undershirt and grey PJ pants. He toweled off his hair and regarded his younger friend. Seeing Johnny still standing there in his soaked clothes, he fixed the teen with an angry stare. "C'mon, Johnny, I said _don't_ drip water on my floor!" He complained.

Sometimes Darry reacted a bit too harshly or looked more intense than he meant to. Johnny cowered beneath his icy gaze and fumbled with his clothing. He tried to get it off as fast as he could to limit Darry's ire. He tried to kick off his shoes and pull off his shirt at the same time, which only resulted in him getting stuck in the soggy, clinging material of his shirt. As Darry watched the younger boy struggle with his shirt, he began to laugh at the spectacle.

"Wow kiddo, let me help you," Darry chuckled and before Johnny knew it, he felt a pair of large calloused hands on his upper arms. They found their way under the wet shirt and helped slip it over his head. Johnny stood bare-chested in front of Darry, their eyes locking for a beat longer than normal. He noticed that the older man's eyes were dancing and a smirk played on his lips.

"What's funny?" Johnny asked somewhat self-consciously. The chill in the air raised goose bumps all over his torso, arms and belly and hardened his nipples until they felt like little beads.

"You are." He said simply, and something in his voice sounded playful. But then he stepped away and pointed to the towel and change of clothes he'd brought out for Johnny. His tone grew more formal "These are Pony's and they should fit you. Please put your wet clothes in the hamper. I'm going to the laundromat in a few days and I'll have them back to you before long."

"Thanks," Johnny said.

When Darry retreated to the living room, Johnny slipped out of his pants and underwear and pulled on clean drawers and soft pants that felt like heaven. When he was dry and all dressed with his wet clothes deposited in a place where they couldn't ruin Darry's floor, he joined the older man in the living room.

"Figured I didn't need a shower after work today since the rain got me so good," he said as he laid a pillow and some blankets on the couch for Johnny. "I sure hope Pony and Soda are okay over at Sandy's." He walked over to the window and peaked behind the curtain at the raging storm. Periodically, flashes of light would overexpose the room and then Johnny would brace himself before the thunder cracked.

"I'm sure they're fine. And thanks for letting me crash here."

"No problem. You tired?"

"A little."

"You know, you could go sleep in Soda and Pony's room since they're not here." Darry took a seat in a chair by the lamp and opened the newspaper he never got to look at that morning. "I'm going to catch up on my reading and I don't want the light to keep you up."

Johnny considered lying alone in a dark, unfamiliar room all alone where every few minutes, flashes of lightning would eerily illuminate creepy shadows. And then loud noises would jolt him to his core. Johnny quickly lay down on his makeshift bed on the couch, fervently shaking his head. "No, no, no, this is fine right here. The light doesn't bother me."

"Suit yourself."

They young men were quiet for a while as Johnny huddled with his blanket up to his chin and Darry sat beneath the glow of his lamp, engrossed in the paper. Johnny watched the older man and decided that even though Darry could be intimidating as all hell, he liked being alone with him. With all his physical strength and stoic mental fortitude, Darry would keep him safe.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when a blinding flash of lightning lit up the room immediately followed by the loudest thunderclap yet. The light flickered and died. Johnny sat bolt upright and gasped, eyes wide in fear. He didn't like being in an unfamiliar, pitch-dark environment.

"Darry?" The panic was evident in the young man's voice.

"Easy there, sit tight," Darry said calmly, getting up. Johnny drew his knees into his chest and hid under his blankets like a little ball. "Hang on over there, I'm gonna find us a candle or two, SHIT! Ouch!" There was a loud _thunk_. Darry had stubbed his toe on his way to the kitchen.

A moment later, he returned with matches and a few tea candles. He lit them and they cast the room in warm, orange light. He looked at Johnny on the couch and saw nothing but a lump under a pile of blankets. For the second time that night, Darry chuckled.

"Johnnycakes." He sat down on the end of the couch. "Is this your head-end or your foot-end?" He pulled the blanket off, revealing a trembling little ball of a teenager with his arms wrapped around his head. "Hey there, c'mon now, it's alright." He reached down and ruffled the raven hair.

"I ain't scared. I'm just cold," Johnny said quickly, though his voice was shaking.

"Uh huh. And I'm the King of England," said Darry. Johnny peeked up. Blue-green eyes peered down into his dark ones. Although they were assessing him, there was softness to the usually icy stare. "C'mon, kiddo."

Darry moved the younger teen out of the way and lay supine on the couch. He pulled Johnny right onto his chest so his dark-haired head was tucked safely beneath Darry's chin, his forehead pressed into Darry's muscled neck. He wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, bracing him protectively and reassuringly with one hand while rubbing gentle circles into his back with the other. Johnny's hand had clenched into a fist around the material of the older boy's shirt. They were silent for a few minutes and just maintained their intimate embrace.

"See, you're okay," Darry whispered. A hand traveled up to Johnny's hair, smoothing it back. He ran his fingers through the black hair, gently caressing his head before letting his hand travel to the frightened boy's neck. He held him protectively by the nape of his neck, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, trying to ease some of Johnny's tension.

"I'm okay," Johnny agreed quietly, his voice light. He cuddled closer to the older man, nuzzling his head into his neck. He threw a leg over Darry's body, reveling in how warm and safe and loved he felt in the older man's arms. He did not want to move and Darry made no indication that their snuggling was coming to an end. Johnny loosened his grip on Darry's shirt and ran a hand down his arm, admiring the feel of the cords of muscle in his forearm and powerful biceps in the upper arm. "Can you stay out here with me tonight?" Johnny heard himself ask.

"Of course," came the whispered reply. "As long as you don't crush me in my sleep." An affectionate kiss was planted on the top of Johnny's head.

He felt the younger boy's breathing get shallow and his muscle tone decreased until he was a cuddly pile of dead weight in Darry's arms. He continued to hold the smaller boy protectively with his arms tight around his thin back as if he was hiding him from the raging storm. Eventually, Darry felt his own eye lids get heavy. Just before he dropped off to sleep, he heard a whisper from Johnny.

"Thanks for keeping me safe. You're not so scary after all."

Darry snorted. "I'm glad you think so."

"Darry?"

"Yeah."

"I love you."

Darry's heart melted. "Love you too, kid." And he drifted off.


End file.
